Six Months
by Just Celia
Summary: Morgana has been gone for six months. A fic in which Gwen is lonely, Merlin is sweet, the castle is cold, and Arthur understands.


_Ok, well, I know I should be probably working on updating my other fics, but this idea came to me and wouldn't go away, so I thought I'd just go ahead and write it :D_

_Summery: Morgana has been gone for six months. A fic in which Gwen is lonely, Merlin is sweet, the castle is cold, and Arthur understands. _

_Warnings: spoilers for the last episode of series 2_

_Um. Mainly just some Gwen/Merlin friendship, with a bit of Arthur in there too. No slash. I hope you enjoy, please review!_

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><p><strong>Six Months<strong>

Winter had truly settled into the castle now, so that you could almost hear it, breathing inside the walls, shuddering through the corridors. No snow had fallen, but the clouds were heavy, and the sun shone bright and cold.

That was during the day. At night, the moon did not even deign to shine. It hung there, misty and dull, howling winds rattling the windows, and chilling people to their bones.

Uther Pendragon was holding a feast for a pair of visiting nobles, and the hall was full of colour, the high table set with glistening cutlery and mounds of food. Arthur sat to the right of his father, his expression dreary as Merlin refilled his goblet, but the seat to the left of Uther was unoccupied. Gwen couldn't keep her eyes from straying to the empty chair, couldn't stop her imagination from filling it with the beautiful Morgana, straight backed and stunning, with pale skin and dark hair, which Gwen would have brushed and curled, tumbling down her back.

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, a little tremor running through her body, half from grief and half from the cold. Morgana had been gone for six months, disappeared completely, and Gwen was near the entrance to the hall, where the cold air lingered. She glanced over at Merlin again, and saw him also give a little shudder, his thin arms going up to wrap around his body, rubbing at his sides. He was wearing his usual clothes, a thin shirt and threadbare jacket, his red neckerchief secured around his throat. Gwen shook her head, even though he wasn't looking in her direction: he ought to dress better in such weather!

But then, she could hardly talk. She glanced down at her lilac dress. She had worn the garment months back, in summer. She felt like wearing black, with Morgana gone, but she couldn't afford the material, and she didn't want to upset Arthur. He insisted there was still hope. He promised that Morgana would be found and returned. Gwen wouldn't destroy his hope, even though it was turning into something more like desperation with every passing day.

After perhaps another twenty minutes, when all that happened was talking between nobles, and Merlin moving to refill the Prince's goblet one more time, Gwen decided that she was not needed. Morgana wouldn't be calling on her for assistance. She might as well not be there.

With one last, regretful glance at the high table, she slipped from the hall.

The moment she was out of it, she missed the little warmth she'd been in. Outside of the hall, away from the people and the torches, the cold tore through her, and her teeth immediately started chattering. She imitated Merlin, folding her arms, and then decided to head for the kitchens, which were always warmest, with the great burning stoves, and warm up a bit, before heading home. Or maybe she would sleep in Morgana's chambers tonight. She did that sometimes, although seeing her former mistress' empty bed didn't exactly make her feel any better.

The kitchens were warm, and Gwen let out a little contented sigh. One of the cooks acknowledged her with a nod of the head, and then went back to preparing something which was probably dessert. No one troubled her: they all knew Gwen. She heard the other servants whispering, saying how they pitied her, waiting for someone who was probably dead. Who would probably never return.

Gwen's eyes blurred for a second, and she brushed at them crossly, before moving off to a back wall. She leant against it, and then slid down to the floor, only suddenly realising how very tired she was.

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><p>Merlin tugged impatiently at his neckerchief. He hated feasts. They were nothing if not exceedingly dull, and tonight was even worse than usual. There were plenty of guests, all seated and chatting politely, but even the people closest to the centre of the room were chilly, and it didn't make for a very nice atmosphere; a load of freezing nobles, who were too stuck up to mention how every time they raised a fork of food to their mouths, it got cold halfway.<p>

A couple of times, Merlin had caught Gwen looking at him from across the hall, but she always glanced away too fast, so he couldn't get a clear view of her expression. He noticed that, when she wasn't watching him, she was watching Arthur, and when she wasn't watching Arthur, she was staring at Morgana's empty chair.

He too, looked at it now, and felt his gut twist with that horribly uncomfortable feeling which he associated with the lost princess: undeniable guilt.

Six months, and they still hadn't been able to find her.

Six months, and Gwen was becoming more withdrawn with every week that passed.

Six months, and Merlin wasn't sure he ever wanted to see Morgana again.

He closed his eyes, and tried not to remember Morgana's expression when she had realised that he had poisoned her. It haunted him every day, and he hated himself for the fact that he wasn't sure whether he never wanted to see Morgana because she was dangerous, or because he was afraid to see that look in her eyes again. Afraid to see that blame and fear and hatred.

He turned back, to see if he might be able to catch Gwen's eye, but she had gone. He frowned for a second, and then looked at Arthur. The jug of wine was right beside him, should he want anymore, although he should be fine since Merlin had given him a top up mere seconds before. Merlin hesitated, telling himself that he wouldn't be long. He just wanted to check that Gwen was all right; it was unusual for her to leave a feast early, or to not carry out anything till the end, and it worried him. Sparing Arthur one, final look, he dashed away, around the outskirts of the hall, trying not to be seen.

It didn't take too long to find her. He had checked Morgana's chambers first, knowing that she sometimes retired there now, instead of her own empty house, but when he realised she wasn't there, he headed for the kitchens. It made sense that Gwen would go there to warm up, before perhaps heading back home.

The kitchens felt like heaven after wondering the corridors, and he stood there a moment, smiling as he let the heat sink into his skin, and then hurrying forwards, searching for his friend.

He found her, sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the wall, her eyes drifting shut.

"Gwen," he said, softly. Her eyes flew fully open, and she looked up at him, surprised. For a moment, it looked like she might get to her feet, but this was Merlin. Gwen didn't really feel the need to pretend in front of Merlin. She was tired, so she would allow herself to act tired. Merlin smiled at her, and then sunk down beside her.

"Hello." She said, very quiet, so that Merlin had to lean a little closer to hear.

"Hey." He muttered.

Gwen blinked, and wasn't even surprised when the first tear worked its way down her cheek. Merlin didn't seem all that surprised either. He shuffled a little closer, and she cautiously leant her head against his shoulder, before burying her face there, crying in earnest now, her tears soaking into his jacket.

Merlin rested his head against hers, and they stayed that way a while, their bodies filled with weighted sadness, which dragged through their bellies and played with their minds.

Eventually, Gwen stopped sobbing, and she pulled away, wiping her eyes and shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "I'm being stupid."

"No, you're not," Merlin promised her, gently taking her hand in his. She looked down at their intertwined fingers, light tangled with dark, and then whispered,

"Every time I think about her, I... every time Uther flinches when someone mentions her, or whenever Arthur tells me he'll bring her home... I only feel like she's vanished all over again. And her chair, always so empty and she's never not been here. I miss her so much, Merlin," and the last words came out choked and gasping, as she pressed her hand to her mouth, remembering the first day she met Morgana. She had been nine, Morgana twelve. Two years later, Gwen had become Morgana's maid. She could barely remember a time when the older girl hadn't been close by. There hadn't _been _such a time, not till now.

Merlin squeezed her fingers.

"Morgana is still alive, Gwen. I can feel it," Merlin told her, "I know it. And Arthur's doing everything he can-"

"But it's not enough!"

"It will take time. But I... I promise you, Gwen," and Merlin lowered his neck, so he was looking right into her deep brown eyes, "if he doesn't find her, then we will leave here, the two of us, and we will search for her. We will keep on looking in places where Uther is too proud or too scared to venture. Give Arthur six more months, and then we will hunt and run and look for her, and then we will bring her back home." Gwen stared at him, into his sincere face, and felt her lips twitch,

"You are amazing, Merlin, you know that? Arthur should get you to give speeches to the knights before battle." Merlin chuckled and then leant away again, tilting his neck to stare at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, Gwen said,

"You would actually do that? For Morgana?"

"For you." Merlin amended.

"And for Arthur," Gwen added. Merlin nodded in agreement, and then silence fell between them once more.

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><p>Arthur beckoned Merlin over, intending to whisper in his ear about the ridiculous way one of the nobles was scoffing his dinner, but Merlin didn't move.<p>

"_Mer_lin," he hissed, twisting in his seat, before freezing. Merlin had vanished. He frowned; when exactly had his disobedient manservant sneaked from the room?

"Is everything all right, Arthur?" Uther enquired, not sounding too concerned, as he speared a piece of liver and then raised it to his lips.

"Yes, of course father. Would you mind excusing me for a few minutes?" Uther considered his son for a few seconds, before nodding slowly.

"Thank you." Arthur got to his feet and left the hall.

After making a few enquiries, Arthur learnt that Merlin had gone off to the kitchens. He was preparing his glaring face, and 'you-lazy-servant-sneaking-off-for-food' speech all the way, not really able to believe just what a terrible manservant Merlin was.

He entered the kitchens, noted the cooks bustling around, ordering kitchen boys to run up to the hall with more plates of food, and then he spotted Merlin.

He was sitting on the floor, his eyes shut, and obviously sleeping. Beside him, sat Guinevere, in much the same state, her head on his shoulder. Arthur's eyes travelled down to their hands, locked together, and he felt his insides tense up, before taking a good look at Guinevere's face. It was marked with tear tracks.

And then he remembered that this was _Merlin_, not bloody Lancelot, and Merlin was at least loyal, if not a lot of other useful things.

Arthur stared down at them both, and was suddenly filled with some unexplainable emotion. It was like pride, but deeper. _These two people are in my life_, he thought, _and they are everything_.

It was a thought that shocked him, but also made him grin like a madman.

Gwen shuffled in her sleep, her hair tumbling down over her face, and Arthur couldn't help but kneel down and brush it behind her ear. She moved her face, slightly, pressing her cheek into the touch. Arthur brushed a thumb over her cheekbone, still smiling, but more gently, as he smoothed away the dried tears. He glanced around to check no one was looking, and then pressed a kiss to her cool brow.

And then Merlin made a kind of snuffling noise, and Arthur snorted, having no quails about reaching over and prodding _him _awake.

Merlin jolted, opening his eyes and gazing blearily at the Prince.

"Arthur!" he spluttered, making to pull his hands from Gwen's, but Arthur shook his head, so Merlin didn't move.

"It's ok. Looks like she needs you right now," he shrugged, "just make sure you wake her up and get her home safe before it gets too late, all right?" Merlin nodded, and Arthur got to his feet. His hands clasped awkwardly together for a moment, before he turned on his heels and left.

Merlin sighed and shifted to make Gwen more comfortable, wondering whether he would ever hold out on his promise, or if Morgana would be brought back to Camelot before the next six months were over.

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><p><em>And that's it! I hope you liked it :) Let me know :D<em>

_Just Celia_


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